


happy accidents

by orphan_account



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack, Desk Sex, Elias has a Collection, Faint nod to Jon Asking Questions, I blame Kyros, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Set vaguely in some kind of AU S1, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 23:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jon accidentally sends Elias a dick pic.  He does not get fired.





	happy accidents

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired mostly by that one tweet:
> 
> BOSS: Know why I called you in here?  
> ME: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic  
> BOSS: [stops pouring two glasses of wine] Accidentally?
> 
> and with a bit of a nod to this kink meme prompt, although it wasn't intended as a proper fill: 
> 
> https://rusty-kink.dreamwidth.org/1380.html?thread=18276#cmt18276
> 
> Thanks to Jason for linking me to the tweet, and Kyros for coming up with the best reason for Jon to be sending someone a dick pic in the first place.

            Jon frowned as he held up his phone and tried to get a better angle. This was not normally something he found himself doing, and he smirked in amusement at the recognition that he was, technically, taking a dick pic. Not for the typical reason, perhaps, but presumably the categorization still applied. And it was a very nice dick. He was extremely happy with it. It had only arrived that morning, and he was, he recognized, possibly a little bit _too_ excited, but he had to share with _someone_.

            There. That wasn’t bad. He eyed it critically before tucking himself back into his jeans and hitting send to “Barker.” At this point the fire alarm went off. Jon swore and dropped his phone on the bed before running into find that he’d left the kettle on the stove and all the water had merrily boiled away. How he’d failed to hear the whistling, he did not know.

            After he’d gotten the alarm to stop going off and utterly failed at saving the kettle from a gruesome fate, he went back to the bedroom. He probably should actually send Georgie an _explanation_ to go along with that picture; even given how comfortable the two of them were with each other, it might seem a bit odd.

            There _was_ a new text, but it was from Elias, not Georgie. “Please meet me tomorrow in my office,” it read. Delightful. What did “Bad Boss” want now, Jon thought irritably as he swiped his phone unlocked—and then froze.

            The last outgoing text was not to Georgie.

            “Oh, fuck,” Jon said. “Oh, shit. _Fuck_. _Fuck me_.”

~

            Jon was quite literally shaking as he knocked on Elias’s door. He’d thought of sending an apology or an explanation, but he hadn’t been able to figure out a way to word it, especially given that he’d _also_ just outed himself to his boss. Finally, he’d just given up and spent the day in nail-biting suspense until Sasha came by and told him that Elias was hoping they could “have that meeting now.”

            “Did he seem—angry?” Jon asked, and Sasha gave him pitying look and shook her head.

            “A bit jovial, really. Why?”

            _I sent him a dick pic last night_ , Jon thought bitterly, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he shrugged.  “Concerned about my work, I suppose,” he said, and Sasha didn’t dig any deeper.

            And now, here he was, probably about to be fired or worse. Jon wasn’t certain what would constitute “worse” than being fired, but if there was such a thing, he _was_ certain Elias would come up with it. Maybe he would be strung up by his ankles, Jon thought acidly, although his hands were still shaking as Elias called, “Come in!” and he opened the door.

            “Ah, Jon, there you are,” Elias said, almost brightly. Jon stared at him a little numbly. “Please, take a seat.”

            Swallowing, Jon slid into the chair across from him. He wanted to stare down at his hands, but he didn’t want the satisfaction of letting Elias see him cowed, so instead he picked a spot a third of the way down Elias’s tie to look at. “Look,” he tried. “Er,” and then discovered he didn’t know what else to say.

            “Presumably you know why you’re here,” Elias said, still fiendishly cheerful, damn him. Jon stared harder at his tie and almost missed noticing that Elias, for some reason known only to himself, had produced two long-stemmed crystal glasses from somewhere and set them on the table.

            “Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic?” Jon finally managed to blurt.

            _Clink_. He looked up to see that Elias had a bottle in one hand and had been in the act of pouring something dark and red, presumably alcoholic, into both of the glasses. Jon wasn’t certain, but he thought the tips of Elias’s ears had gone very faintly red. “Accidentally,” Elias echoed, carefully setting down the bottle. “Yes.”

            “Wait. Did you—” Jon cut himself off and swallowed. “You thought—you actually thought I had—”

            “It seemed like a not unreasonable assumption.” Elias was quiet for a moment. “To be honest, I suppose I thought you had realized that _I_ was…not assigned male at birth.”

            Jon choked on his own spit. “What,” he said. “I mean. Oh. Er.”

            Elias quirked an eyebrow at him, his face a perfect blank, but his hands were twisting around the stem of the glass in front of him. “Well, as it was an accident, I suppose the only thing to say is that you may wish to be more careful with who you text what, Jon.”

            “You were literally going to seduce me, weren’t you?” Jon asked. “Just like that?”            

            Elias seemed to twitch slightly. “Hardly,” he protested stiffly. “I think you’ll find that I was under the impression that I was merely _responding_ to an already-initiated seduction by you.”

            “Admittedly, I’ve never seduced anyone before,” Jon said slowly. “But…really? You thought the best I could come up with was a dick pic, with no buildup or—I think I’m insulted.”

            “It established both interest and common experience,” Elias shrugged. “What else would you need?”           

            “I don’t know, maybe some level of—of courtship? And you’re my boss, for god’s sake!”

            “Thank you, I’m aware,” Elias replied imperturbably. “Hence why _I_ had initiated nothing.”

            “Oh, my god,” Jon said limply. “No. There’s no way you’re that—”

            “Ethical? No. But do I prefer to know that my partners are _choosing_ me, Jon.”

            “I think I could use that drink, after all.” Jon reached out, and Elias, eyes widening slightly, pushed the half-full glass of wine over to him. It burned going down his throat, and Jon was not a connoisseur, so he had no idea whether what Elias had given him was good wine or the kind that you got in a cardboard box that Georgie said she wouldn’t even get smashed on.

            He stared down at the remains of it. This was a terrible idea. It was a really, truly, awfully terrible idea. But something in him was tugging to do it anyway. Something about the awkward way that Elias was still fiddling with that glass, and the way he had just—it wasn’t trusted Jon, that wasn’t it, but Jon couldn’t think of a better word at the current juncture. “Right,” Jon said, pushing back the chair and standing up. “Fuck it.” He felt as if somebody else was controlling his body as he got up, took two steps across the room, put a fist into Elias’s tie, and jerked him forward into a clumsy kiss.

            For a moment, there was no response, and then Elias’s hands tightened under Jon’s elbows, and he was kissing back, tongue shoving its way into Jon’s mouth as he pulled Jon down into his lap. After about a moment, Elias broke the kiss, and, sounding only a little breathless, commented, “I am getting somewhat mixed messages here, Jon.”

            “Screw you,” Jon told him. “You’re an arse, and a terrible boss, and—”

            “If this is supposed to be seductive—” Jon tangled a fist in Elias’s curly hair and twisted. Elias gasped sharply. “Better,” he managed, his hands circling Jon’s waist. “You’ll—I’m not sure where you’re angling for this to go, but I— _will_ need to readjust below the waist if you want anything more than a hand inside you. Which means I do have to be able to get up.”

            Which meant if Jon _didn’t_ , all he had to do was stay sitting there in Elias’s lap. Well. In for a penny, he supposed. He peeled himself up irritably. “Thank you,” Elias told him, then ran a thumb speculatively along his lower lip as he went back to one of the cabinets Jon had always assumed contained a set of well-filed documents of some sort. “Here. What do you think?”

            Jon peered over his shoulder. “Of course _you’d_ have a selection in your _office_ ,” he snarled.

            “Well, there’s no sense in being unprepared.”

            “Because it’s so common for you to be fucking your employees in your office.” Was it, Jon wondered, suddenly, with an irrational surge of emotion that decidedly could not be jealousy.

            “Being prepared for the unlikely is just as important as being prepared for the commonplace. Now, which one do you want, or shall I choose the largest?”

            “Oh, god,” Jon said blankly. “No, thanks, I’d like to be able to walk tomorrow. That one.” He gestured to one of the ones in the middle, because of course Elias had them all neatly sorted by size.

            Elias patted his cheek. “Perhaps another time,” he murmured, and Jon squirmed. “All right. Bend over the desk.”

            “You’d better have lubricant,” Jon told him, although he did as he was told, loosening his belt and sliding his trousers and pants down, which left him shivering, stripped, and feeling entirely rather than just half naked.

            And then Elias was there, slotting into place behind him, Jon’s chosen dick nudging at his thighs. “Trust me,” he murmured in Jon’s ear, breathing gently on Jon’s neck. A cold, slick finger pressed into Jon, and he hissed sharply, doing his best to relax around it. Elias nibbled at his throat, and Jon whined, reached back, and tangled a hand in Elias’s hair again, and Elias’s voice went husky as he gasped out Jon’s name and added a second finger.

            It was really quite a lot, Jon thought distractedly, and he was grinding his hips forward against the desk, trying to get some kind of friction between his legs, which wasn’t working as well as it might have done. “Dammit,” he muttered, and then his voice rose to a breathy whine again as Elias made a considering noise and abruptly it wasn’t fingers pressing at him now. “Oh, _Christ_ ,” Jon managed as Elias breached him, slow but steady.

            Elias hummed into Jon’s shoulder and slid two fingers down between his legs, and he closed his eyes against the rush of sensation. Elias’s other hand was on his hip, steadying him, and Jon squirmed, using one hand to brace himself on the desk, the other alternating between petting and twisting in Elias’s hair as Elias fucked him, thorough, deep and slow.

            “Jon,” Elias said, and his voice was so twisted up with desperation Jon could barely recognize it, and the sound of it made him pant desperately and try to twitch his hips back against Elias. “ _Jon_ ,” Elias tried again, and he sounded even more broken this time, so Jon snapped his hips back harder. The sound he got this time wasn’t even remotely coherent, but Jon didn’t have much coherence remaining in him either, especially not as he fucked himself back on Elias’s cock and then forward onto his fingers. He clutched at the desk as the orgasm hit him suddenly, the heat that washed through him forcing his head down onto the desk.

            “Oh, god,” Elias said, and he sounded like he was sobbing as he fucked into Jon again and again, lifting Jon’s feet off the ground and trapping him flat on top of the desk. He twitched and writhed desperately, overstimulated, but Elias’s fingers kept moving, gentle and insistent, and in just a minute Jon was coming again with a ragged, desperate cry. Almost simultaneously, Elias bit down on the back of his neck, and Jon felt a twitching spasm roll through his muscles as well.

            They stayed like that for a moment, Elias’s weight heavy on Jon’s back, trapping Jon against Elias’s fingers. Then, shakily, Jon started to lever himself up. Elias took a wobbly step backwards, sliding carefully out of Jon as he did so.

            “So,” Jon blew out his breath as he tried to take a step and nearly fell. “Suppose I’m not going to be fired for unprofessional conduct after all, then?”

            The laugh Elias gave was only a little wilder than his usual gentle chuckle. “No, Jon. No, I don’t think you are.”


End file.
